we can learn to love again
by KuraGonzalez
Summary: He wishes he'd be good enough for Seth, that their interactions wouldn't only consist of trying to mentally pick the other apart. But Seth is as unreachable as the sun; equally destructive yet life-giving too. If he likes it or not, he's Dean's everything and there must be something he can do. He'll find it. He has to.
1. Chapter 1

_Yes, another new fic ;_; I know, I know. Shame on me. Also, I have no clue if what I'm writing about is actually true. I've done plenty of research but reading about it is not the same as having to deal with it yourself. So if you see any major mistakes about IT (no spoilers yet), please tell me. I'm very anxious about posting this fic._

 _Also, this is a prompt fill for KatieRonalds._

* * *

In hindsight, Dean thinks he should have seen the signs but to his defense, he was a bit busy with hating on Seth and fending the Wyatts off. And, to be quite honest, he has no fucking clue what exactly these signs are even supposed to be.

All he knows is that he _should have_ been there from the beginning. That's what brothers do; taking care of their family even if they're a pain in the ass.

But fate wouldn't have it and so Dean had to stumble over a barfing Seth in a bathroom of a random arena to learn the harsh truth. He's been a terrible brother and now it might be too late to fix things.

* * *

'Look at that, our double champ is sick,' he gloats, lip curling upwards as he catches his co-worker violently emptying his stomach into the sink. What a douche. There are stalls right behind him but no, Prince Pretty here has to clog up the goddamn vanity basin. Dean feels bad for whoever has to clean that shit up. 'Next time use the toilet, idiot.'

And with that he walks over to the urinal to take a piss and get the hell out of here. He doesn't mind the hurling sounds that still resemble a dying dinosaur. No, he's sick of Seth's presence; his skin itches unpleasantly and his fingers ball into fists on their own accord, ready to throw the first punch.

But Dean is not heartless, he's better than this. Attacking Seth when he's already down is no fun at all.

'Shut up, Ambrose,' his former business partner wheezes, sweaty hands grasping the edge of the porcelain to steady his shivering body. It's such a familiar and depressing sight that Dean stops seething inside for a second, genuine concern corrupting his mind and soul until he can snap out of it.

'Whatever, man.' This is none of his business. Not anymore. If he can believe this bighead's words, it never really was. So Dean washes his hands and closes the door behind him, Seth's gasping echoing loudly in his head.

Something's _wrong_. He should go back and check on him; animosity or not. They still work for the same company and Seth is supposed to represent Dean as his World Heavyweight and United States Champion. He can't just walk away from his responsibility as a fellow wrestler.

Sometimes he'd like to be able to say that whatever Seth is up to isn't of interest to him anymore. Most days he can pretend he doesn't care, that the ire and blatant hatred erased all that has been before. But there are also times he realizes it's all been a lie. Seth is still the most important person to him and that won't ever change.

They used to be more than brothers, used to have each other's back and no matter how many times Seth claims that it's all been fake, the wish to make sure he's okay is still ingrained in Dean's brain. His body turns around and he conceits belatedly that it moves on autopilot. Fucking muscle memory. Or the constant pull he feels all hours of the day for a whole eternity now. It's _pathetic_ that after a goddamn year he still yearns for things to be like they were before.

Before he rips the door open once more, Hunter approaches him with a worried frown, asking brusquely if he's seen Seth. From the looks of it, daddy can't find his poster boy. He points at the blue entrance and nods, snarling, 'Yup. Your undisputed future is puking his guts out. A sight for sore eyes.'

Okay, part of him is enjoying his former brother's misery, but another – way bigger – part hesitates when Hunter's face turns irate and sympathetic at the same time. Dean gets the feeling that he's missing a clue to solve this riddle and that there's a really good reason to start being concerned for Seth's wellbeing. One he can't see because all he cares about is keeping his grudge alive to not drown in his sappy feelings for that jerk.

Dean's mouth opens without him being able to prevent it. For some weird reason he has the urge to defend his glee or to reassure the man that barfing on the road is kinda normal. As if the man wouldn't know that already. They've all done it more than once. Seth will be back on track in the blink of an eye. He hates being sick, so Dean is sure that he's already taken tons of medicine.

'It's probably just food poisoning or some minor ailment. Happens to the best of us. He'll be running around like he's the king of the world in no time.'

Hunter simply scowls and leaves Dean standing there, making him wonder if he's wrong or if Hunter's head is as far up Seth's ass as it's the other way round.

Nah, he's overreacting. If anything were wrong, surely he'd have caught up on it. He's been wrestling Seth each night, has seen him almost daily in the past few weeks. His rage wouldn't have made him _that_ blind. Right?

Honestly, he has no fucking idea. Ever since Seth committed treason, he's been more focused on inflicting damage than being on big brother or good guy duty.

But his instinct is always right and now it tells him he's missed something vital lately and that he should stay to spy on Seth and Hunter, playing a ninja himself for once.

As quietly as possible Dean opens the door just enough to see a good portion of Seth's sweat-covered profile. His former friend is staring at his reflection with so much hatred that Dean is convinced he's actually seeing one of them in there, mocking him for managing to get in this jam shortly after he made history once more.

Or for the fact that he admitted he walks around his hotel room with his two belts, butt naked as God created him.

Why does he even know this? More importantly, why can't Dean stop absorbing every interview and public appearance, as well as his activity online like he's a goddamn sponge? This way he'll never get over what they had and what they couldn't be.

'Seth, you need to stop.' Hunter's voice is stern, yet Dean can hear concern in his demand. Stop with what? Damn, being so out of loop sucks dick. What is Seth up to these days? Is it connected to Sting?

His former companion spits into the sink and washes his mouth, trying and failing to get rid of the bitter taste in his mouth. 'No,' Seth barks out, the knuckles turning white from his iron grip. Dean knows that tone all too well. It's the _don't tell me what to do_ warning Seth only gives once before he explodes. Something he copied from Dean during their feud in FCW and didn't bother to free himself of since then.

'I can do this.'

There's a loud, enervated sigh and Dean watches Seth press his lips together, trying to hold in what wants out. 'You won against Cena, but you can't defend both titles in your condition. Seth, you need to go home. Rest. Get better.'

No one makes such a fuss because of food poisoning; not even if it's about someone like Seth Rollins. So what is really going on here? It sounds like Seth is seriously ill and just the thought is enough to stop his lungs from doing their work. Dean can feel his chest constrict, a sense of foreboding turning his knees into jelly. No matter how badly he wants to rip Seth apart for betraying them, he doesn't wish for the other to suffer. Not if Dean isn't the cause of it. Not if he can't make up for it with a smirk and a beer.

His whole body freezes the moment he sees Seth run a hand through his hair, a whole tuft coming out. Holy fuck. This has nothing to do with the broken blond patch. Seth is losing hair and that can only mean the worst if Hunter is so dead set on making sure his prodigy son takes some time off.

Dean can't feel his fingers anymore; nothing seems to be real. His ears are ringing and his breathing gets ragged, almost to the point of him revealing himself.

He's seen cases of people losing tons of hair due to poisoning but it's hard to believe someone would want to harm– okay, considering this is about a lying, backstabbing scumbag that's not that far fetched. But Dean finds it hard to believe that anyone would actually do it. If they have qualms with each other in this company, they take it all out in the ring. No one _wants_ to permanently harm each other. They do that in their dreams at night.

'No, Hunter, I got this. I'm _not_ giving up what I worked so hard for,' Seth grits out, turning around to face his pimp. Dean rests his forehead on the cold door, wishing he'd never have decided to eavesdrop. Yet he's unable to find the inner strength to turn away.

'Nobody said you'll never get to the top again. You're the best wrestler we have and I can open you all doors but I need you to take care of yourself,' Hunter tries to reason and Dean smiles tiredly, knowing full well that it's no use. Seth is as stubborn as he's arrogant. A character trait Dean once thought was kinda cute; when he still saw it as self-confidence and justified cockiness. Nowadays it just pisses him off.

Predictably, Seth lashes out at their boss, screaming with a shaking voice, 'I sold out, stabbed my stable in the back for all this. I'm not giving it up just because karma decided to finally get to me.'

What's goin' on? If they don't give him an answer soon, he'll barge in the room and grab Seth at his collar to force the truth outta him.

The fact that Seth apparently feels some kind of remorse for ditching them doesn't elude him, but too much has happened to file this away as the beginning of an apology he might accept one day. However, something inside of him appreciates the honesty and that he didn't call them any names even in the heat of the moment. Not like Dean tends to do.

'Your false pride won't get you anywhere. Steph and I, we're done watching you collapse after every match. You either take a break or we'll strip you off your titles.'

What? Is it _that_ bad? How could Dean be so fucking ignorant? He's sworn he'd always be there for his family. Look at him now, being benched during Seth's most dangerous game.

There's another sigh that's bordering on being irate and Hunter's next words take the remaining breath out of Dean. He has to steady himself, feeling bile crawl up his throat. No, no, no. _No_. This can't be real. He did not leave his brother alone with _that_.

'Seth, cancer isn't a problem you can just will away.'

'Cancer?' he blurts out, hurt and betrayed and shocked to his very core. Dean bites on his bottom lip the moment he realizes that he said that one loud enough for the two to hear and he can see Seth flinch, dashing to the door to yank it open and glare right at him.

'What are you still doing here? Stop looking at me like I– oh, for God's sake, I'm out.' And with that he picks up his championship belts to brush past Dean, staggering away on wobbly legs, the faint stench of sweat and vomit following him.

Dean is too stunned to dash after him, still hoping he got something wrong. That Seth, his little brother, isn't– doesn't– he can't–

'Seth has cancer?' he breathes, wishing to sit down but forcing himself to keep his head held high, to not show any weakness in front of the man Seth left him for. 'Since when? Is it– will he–' Goddamn, look at him fumbling for words. How pathetic.

Hunter stares at him for a few seconds, deciding if he's worth talking to and coming to the conclusion that Dean isn't. 'I too don't think this is any of your concern,' his boss walks past him, not even dignifying him one last glance.

He's just gonna ignore him after dropping _that_ bomb? 'Like he'll it ain't,' he yells after the man, fishing out his phone to punch in Roman's number with violently shaking fingers, hitting the wrong spot multiple times.

'Dee, where are you? If you're not at the car in one minute, Imma drive away without ya,' his brother greets him grumpily but Dean ignores it. Getting to the hotel to sleep for three hours before beginning another satisfying day is not really his top priority anymore. To be honest, right now he feels like _normal_ won't ever happen to them again.

'Ro, listen,' he says so piercingly that his best friend immediately shuts up. 'We gotta talk. Something– something fucked up just happened.'

And Dean's about to lose it if he can't bathe in his best friend's serenity. He needs someone to tell him this is only a nightmare.

Seth still has a place in his heart – Dean won't ever do something about that since he'll forever refuse to believe that he got tricked for over two years and started to tentatively love someone who only fucked around with him – and he's not about to abandon him for dead.

Only Ro can make the world stop spinning and his eyes stop burning. Now that Seth is gone, Roman is the last person to be able to reach Dean.

He wishes he'd be good enough for Seth, that their interactions wouldn't only consist of trying to mentally pick the other apart and that he would still find his baby brother in their motel room after an instance like this.

But Seth is as unreachable as the sun; equally destructive yet life-giving too. If he likes it or not, he's Dean's everything and there _must be_ something he can do. He'll find it. He has to.

There's no way he's gonna give up on Seth. Never has, never will.


	2. Chapter 2

I could write a lengthy note here, but for those who want to enjoy this fic without my whining, I'll just say that if you want to read my "2015 farewell note", you should head over to ambrollinsgirl. If not, then let me just say, HAPPY NEW YEAR and thank you for everything. I wouldn't be where I am now, if it weren't for all of you guys. Lets hope for more Ambrollins in 2016 =3

* * *

For over an hour already it's awfully quiet in their shabby quarter – Roman sitting on the bed, face buried in his hands, his posture not giving away if he fell asleep pondering over the news or if he's just trying to come to terms with everything – and Dean is about to explode.

He's been prowling the room ever since they checked in, not able to keep still. His body tells him to go to the most pompous hotel in the area and find Seth, confront him about his illness and force his brother to accept their help through all this.

Sure, technically, he shouldn't be too concerned, considering what Seth did to them not only after the Shield breakup but also the lying and bullshitting before. Thing is though, they're still family; they'll always be and they've been there for each other through good and bad. That was one of the many things Dean cherished about their brotherhood. He won't change the ritual now, just because his moronic little brother decided to break free in the worst possible way.

'Why didn't he tell us?' he roars, slamming his fist against the wall. He's not even surprised when the outlines of a hand-sized hole appear once he draws his arm back. What a shitty place.

Roman still doesn't move a single muscle but at least Dean can hear him draw in a sharp breath, the harsh sound telling him everything he needs to know.

'Yeah, we're not the tightest buddies anymore but how could he hide _that_ from us? His family?'

That does the trick. His best friend lifts his head to stare at him impassively, his voice tired and lecturing at the same time. 'Dee, we ain't entitled to these things no more. Seth's our stupid, selfish baby brother but he no longer considers _us_ family. If he chooses to keep quiet about it, there ain't a thing we can do.'

He gets that, he really does. Nevertheless, it's not enough to convince him that they should forget about this and move on as if nothing happened. As if they're not about to lose Seth forever.

No. _Fuck_ _no_. Dean won't accept this. He'll beat some sense into Ro, and if it's the last thing he'll ever do. Rage is so much easier to deal with than worry.

'What?' he yells, suppressing the urge to grab his brother at the collar and shake him until his head falls off. 'We're just gonna watch him suffer alone? What if he– I mean, what if–'

God dammit, he can't even think it, let alone say it out loud. He's so pathetic, it's disgusting.

Roman sighs, running a shaking hand through his black hair. 'I didn't mean it like that. But we can't force him to let us in,' his friend reminds him calmly – Dean can spot the storm raging inside those concerned eyes though –, trying to make him see reason.

He won't lose this battle. No matter what Seth did, he will not leave him alone. He should've tried to fix things sooner instead of only making them worse, but he got blinded by his hatred and misery and forgot what was really important.

Seth might have faked a lot of things, yet Dean is dead certain that what they had – or were about to have – was real. Cause it wasn't part of his meticulously sketched out plan. It happened against his will, _they_ just found each other. Seth could've stopped it at any given moment, but he fell for Dean and allowed it to occur; even though he knew it would fuck up his master plan.

Dean means _something_ to Seth or otherwise he wouldn't keep gravitating around him, wouldn't give him title shot after title shot. Wouldn't even look at him or breathe the same air. The times of being the spoiled kid are over, Dean's gonna take care of that, even if Seth will fight him just as much as he'll battle cancer.

'Watch me,' he grits out, storming to the door to rip it open. 'What're ya– Dee. _Dean_. Where are ya goin'?' He can hear Roman getting up too, most likely to stop him and suggest they stay here tonight, think this over and approach Seth some other day, once they've recovered from this shock. Not with him. Dean doesn't do things the normal way, he's more of a _follow your instincts_ guy.

'To Seth.' Where else would he go? The next bar, to get shitfaced and find some shady dealer to pump toxin into his blood again? Not so long ago, he'd have done that without giving it a second thought. Now though, his main focus is his family and for them he wants to stay clean. Strong. _Good_.

At times like this it's so goddamn hard to not give into those old habits cause drowning his sorrow in booze and drugs is so much easier and awfully tempting. All he wants to do is forget the world and wake up once reality finished being so fucking terrible, but he's a changed man. And he's supposed to have learned from his past mistakes.

Seth doesn't need another burden in his life, so Dean doesn't want to be one. Besides, he can't even imagine the disappointed glance Roman would shoot at him, just to force himself to smile because he wouldn't want Dean to feel bad about relapsing.

He's so done with dragging everyone down, with fucking up the lives of his family. This time, he wants to be the anchor, the shoulder to lean on, the source of love and serenity. Dean can't go on screwing things up, he needs to take responsibility too. It shouldn't be just Ro's job. He's also a big brother and he's gonna be an awesome one.

'You can't demand to be let back in,' his best friend reminds him with a stern voice, a huge hand touching his shoulder. It's not enough to hold him back, yet Dean stops moving altogether immediately. Roman just has that calming effect on him. 'He won't allow it.'

Dean is perfectly aware of that. He really wants to spit out _masterful deduction, Sherlock_ , but he swallows the sarcastic remark down and turns around, barking against his will, 'Cause we're enemies?' This whole feud has been driving him out of his mind anyway, so it's time to end it. Dean certainly doesn't mind if they do that outside of work, as long as he gets his tiny, broken family back.

'No,' Roman sighs, all fight leaving his body, 'he'll think you'll only come back cause of his cancer.'

That's not true. It's simply the thing that made him realize how stupid their petty feud is and how much the grief and resentment drove them further apart. He knows how pitiful he must look right now and that everyone will think he suddenly cares about Seth because he's sick and could be dy– could take a whole eternity to get better but that's _not_ the case.

He's always cared; never stopped doing so. That's one of the things about love he's come to loathe the most. That he physically hurts when he sees his brothers suffering and that breathing is so hard until they're good again. He never wanted to depend on someone else so much, but with Seth and Ro it just felt kinda natural. Like it was meant to be.

Now he has an opening to squeeze himself back into Seth's life and sort all their shit out without tainting wrestling. Some things should stay pure. Dean can't take the pain away, can't fight for Seth but he can be by his side and show him that forgiveness isn't completely out of reach. If Seth wants it.

He _has_ to be there to rekindle with his brother, to pave the way for a possible return to what they once were. It's horrible how selfish he is in a situation like this, but contrary to Seth who has had the chance to move on because he ended everything on his own terms, Dean still yearns for clarity. And that things between them will be the same again.

'I'm not leaving him alone,' he stands his ground, even though it's not even needed. Roman understands him perfectly. Yet there's this annoying part of his friend that resembles a father way too much and sometimes, Dean hates it. Like, right now.

'Why?' comes the predictable question and Dean rolls his eyes, moaning loudly. Roman knows exactly _why_ Dean's doing is and he only wants him to admit it out loud, make it real and not able to take back anymore. Fine, if he's out to do this, Dean can give it to him.

'Cause I'm– we're–' Well, maybe it's not as easy as he thought. But surely the next best thing will work too. 'He's my brother.' Ro arches an eyebrows as if to say _you're not tellin' me the whole truth_ but thankfully doesn't address it. Instead he simply states, 'You'll need a better argument to convince him.'

'I don't need shit,' Dean works himself up into a lather, throwing his hands around animatedly. ' _He_ left _us_. If I wanna have him back in my life, he should be fucking grateful.' As if Seth has any right to judge them. Not after everything he's done.

Roman doesn't care that Dean's tone is loud and aggressive, just towers over him, mentioning soothingly, 'Maybe you should tell him your feelings.' 'My what?' Feelings. Pfft. What is this, kindergarden? Seth knows how he _feels_ , after all, he's blurted it out in the ring more often than not.

'That you love him.' If their baby brother hasn't understood it by now, he'll never get it. 'Course I do,' he rebuffs, walking back into the room to grab his leather jacket. He might have never said it out loud outside of work, hoping his actions would speak louder than words but Seth is the smart one. If anyone is supposed to figure it out, it's him. 'He's family, despite all the crap he pulled.'

'Not that.' God, there's the damn stupid, caring big brother voice again. The one screaming _stop bullshitting me_. He's come to detest it so much cause Roman is always right. And that's so frustrating. 'Dee, I'm not blind, nor dumb. You've been head over heels for, I dunno, ever? That's why you can't let go. And why you're on your way to Seth to coerce him to accept you'll be there for him – if he wants it or not. You can't lose him. It would kill ya. It _is_ killin' you right now.'

Dean closes the door to lean against it, rubbing over his face tiredly. 'I can't tell him that.' He's desperate but not that idiotic. Seth wouldn't believe it anyway. Or care about it. Their tentative relationship wasn't even enough to keep him from leaving.

'Trust me, sooner or later he'll understand it too and I'm not sure if he'll like it,' Roman warns him thoughtfully, sitting back down to stare into space, murmuring defeated, 'Feels like I've never even known him at all.'

Welcome to the club. 'He's still our brother.'

'And he'll always be.' They smile at each other; however, the happy moment is short-lived and full of exhaustion. They're both clueless and at their wits' end but there's one thing they know for sure and that's that turning away and ignoring this matter is not an option. They'll help Seth through it and then they can still decide if their family deserves another chance.

Suddenly, Ro lifts his head and grins, pointing towards the exit. 'Go and let him get used to the idea of us being around again. But give him time. This ain't easy for him. There's a reason he didn't want us to know. Respect that.'

Yeah, yeah. He's not that insensitive. 'We'll see,' he adds, smirking, dashing out of the room after catching an encouraging wink directed at him. He jumps into the next taxi, asking the driver to take him to the most expensive hotel in the area, because Seth is a pretentious fuck these days, and rides up the elevator to knock on the door.

He knows it's Seth's room, because that dumbo uses the same number wherever he goes. It's kinda funny, since it's Dean's birthday – 127 –; hilarious and odd. If he hates Dean so much, then why does he stay in a room that reeks of him?

Seth opens after the third knock – so predictable –, face ashen, wearing the baggiest sweatpants and long-sleeved shirt combo Dean has ever seen, hair tied into a loose ponytail, cold sweat covering his skin. Even though he doesn't want to start the conversation like this, it's _impossible_ to stop his lips from letting out an irritated, 'You look like shit. It's only been two hours. What did you do in the meantime?' Even while puking, Seth had looked somewhat healthy.

'It's called makeup, Ambrose,' his baby brother answers annoyed, blocking the door with his body. 'What do you want?' _Put you in a blanket and take you back to our motel, so we can cuddle with each other in the same bed after a whole lifetime of being apart_.

'For now, talk,' he explains his visit, finger pointing at Seth's unusual choice of clothes, hinting at what's happening underneath. But this doofus is more stubborn than is good for him, straightening himself to his full height as if that would make his argument any more valid or convincing. If anything, it's simply adorable.

'No, we're through. There's nothing I have to say to you.' He's not going to play this game, not when everything is at stake and Dean feels like he'll combust at any second. So he slips into the room – it's not even that hard to push Seth outta the way –, taking a look around the luxurious room to spot several hair on the pillow, his heart sinking when Seth follows his gaze and quickly puts on a beanie.

There's no need to hide anything from Dean, but he'll be patient and listen to Ro's advice to give his little brother all the time he needs to get used to this new situation, no matter how much he'd love to skip the dumb foreplay.

'I know you have trouble grasping the concept of privacy and manners but I didn't invite you in,' Seth says in that arrogant tone of his that Dean dubbed _the Authority's little bitch voice_. He's not once talked like that during their time as The Shield. Not even down in NXT or FCW. Selling out seems to change even your very soul. 'Nor am I interested in why you're here.'

He's had enough of this. Dean didn't come to have a pointless talk about why they pretend to hate each other's guts. 'Seth, cut the crap.' Huh, interesting. So _that's_ how Ro feels all the time.

The fire returns in his brother's eyes and he steps closer, apparently trying to look menacing but Dean is too happy about Seth forgetting the concept of personal space too to even care. He's never been afraid of nor intimidated by this goof and he won't start with it now. But he has a healthy respect for the smart mouth of the other.

'No, you stop faking you care for me. So, you hear I'm sick and as soon as it's something serious you come running. After telling me over and over that you enjoy my agony, the last time merely a few hours ago? Sorry if I'm having trouble believing you.' Sarcasm is _his_ defense mechanism, Seth has no right to use it as his. But damn, he's really good at it. Those words hurt more than Dean thought they would.

'Don't worry about me, I got this,' Seth finishes his mean but justified speech, sitting down on his bed to casually wipe the fallen out hair off his pillow, looking Dean straight in the eyes to deliver his final blow. 'I don't need you or your boy toy.'

It takes all his willpower to not heave an enervated sigh because of this stupidity. Roman has been a thorn in Seth's side for so long and Dean still can't fathom why. But now that he's in the moment, Seth rolls with the flow, releasing yet another insult. 'Never have, definitely never will. Now, if you would excuse me, I have a flight home to catch in a few hours.'

Like he said, he's not here to play any more games. Seth can throw hissy fit after hissy fit, he won't be bothered by that. 'Are you gettin' chemo?' Dean asks, leaving no doubt that he's being serious about this, showing very clearly that Seth won't be able to get rid of him that easily.

They're both tremendously thick-headed, so it's no real surprise when his brother ignores his sincere question and grunts, 'You know where the door is.' To show he's done talking, Seth lies down, his back turned to Dean, hiding under the cover before he just turns the lights off.

And he really expects that to work? That Dean will just give up and leave? Dude, he needs to put a lot more effort in that. Dean will stay in this room until Seth will talk to him. Surely that's not too much to ask for.

Shrugging, he walks over to the expensive couch to slip out of his boots and make himself more comfortable, waiting for his brother to get off his high horse and forget the bastard he turned into since leaving them.

Actually, this is quite nice. Not the fact that Seth is fighting Dean tooth and nail, but that they're together in a room without ripping each other apart, enjoying the darkness and silence. It feels normal and Dean hasn't had that in over a year. If he closes his eyes, he can even pretend that Seth isn't mad at him and that it's an evening like any other, the two of them waiting for Ro to come back with food, so they can eat in bed and laugh all night.

That is until Seth spits out a too hateful, 'You are still here?' There are a thousand things Dean would like to say now, but he settles on a cheerful, 'Get used to it.' No need to rile Seth up even more. Not yet anyway. There'll soon come a day he will need to explode and Dean will take it all, but that moment hasn't come yet.

Seth scoffs, muttering something that breaks his heart all over. 'I'd rather die.'


	3. Chapter 3

Head over to my blog sometime this weekend for more information on the status of this and other fics. Sorry for being so slow and thanks for your patience!

* * *

Of course Dean didn't leave. He doesn't give up that easily. And he sure as hell won't let Seth tell him what to do. It's never been that way, so Dean won't allow the big C to change anything.

For a while, he stood awkwardly in the dark room until he staggered to a chair and made himself comfortable since there was nothing else to do, other than worry about how to persuade this goober to accept his help.

Seth dozed off after an hour or two – it was hard to tell with no watch and all – but it was always only temporary. Dean can't say if it's cause of the whole situation or due to him being here, invading his brother's privacy.

He's not tired at all, his whole body wired up, prepared to keep watch as long as necessary. Next to Seth's bed he follows the moon wandering across the sky, sees clouds deform into weird figures and stars shifting into constellations he can't name. Dean's getting so used to the silence and Seth's occasional deep breathing that he flinches hard when his brother suddenly speaks up, practically snarling at him, 'I do not need your sympathy.'

Roman had warned him about this, but Dean's still slightly offended that Seth thinks he's just here cause he now knows about the cancer. He's been fighting hard to stay in Seth's life the whole past year; not just to get some answers. It's simply that this diagnosis gives Dean an excuse to be around outside of work and illness or not, he won't be so stupid and let this chance pass by.

Honestly, he's kinda amazed Seth hasn't kicked him out yet or called the security of the hotel to escort him outta here. Maybe he enjoys Dean's presence a tiny bit too – even if he'd never admit it. That stubborn bastard.

And not bashing each other's heads in is a nice change of their violent routine.

He yawns, not impressed by Seth's harsh tone, mumbling annoyed, 'Believe me, you wouldn't even deserve it.' It's not sympathy he feels for Seth. No, actually, it's more like wise man Ro said. Dean is horribly scared of losing his buddy. Even after all the shit that happened.

They don't say a word, both waiting for the other to respond and carry on a senseless argument neither of them can truly win. So Dean sinks deeper into the comfy chair and readjusts his leather jacket – that he uses as a makeshift blanket since he's too proud to ask Seth for a spare one.

His friend is still lying with his back to him and Dean can feel how his fury dissipates with each passing second. Apparently, he said the right thing, as rude is it might've been.

It's obvious that Seth doesn't like Dean being here but he came to terms with not having any other choice tonight. He probably fools himself, thinking it's a one time thing to help Dean deal with this. Seth should know him better than that. He's the king of all obstinate people.

Thank God Seth's not trying to get rid of him by bragging about destroying Dean's beloved Shield or else he'd punch him in his pale face. Cancer or not, this topic is off limits. No matter how much time passes, for Dean it'll always be too soon. Seth didn't simply ruin the only family he ever cherished, he broke Dean too.

'I'm not here cause I pity you.'

'Then why are you here?' The dreaded question. The one Dean would wanna answer honestly, but can't. He ain't stupid. Dean doesn't need Ro to tell him that Seth wouldn't believe anything he offers, especially that.

He's not lying when he responds slowly, avoiding the truth a little while longer, 'Cause you're my brother.' Even though Dean's feelings threaten to explode at any given moment, he's not ready to tell the whole story. Sometimes he fears there'll never be a good time for it or that Seth won't ever care. Life's too empty without his dorky, little bro though, so he should man up one day and try everything to get this doofus back on track.

For now, however, making sure there is a future with his friend in it is his main focus.

Seth huffs, probably rolling with his eyes too, so Dean refrains from getting up to whack him over the head and explains some more. 'That's what I do, looking out for my family, no matter how much bad blood there has been. Doesn't matter that you're a royal pain in the ass, at the end of the day you're still a part of us. Like it or not.'

'I don't,' comes the immediate, petulant and completely predictable reply. Seriously, can Seth stop sulking already? Dean isn't doing this to bicker with him all of the time. That's surely not good for his recovery either and it's bothering Dean a lot that after everything that happened he is the one who has to justify himself. Seth should be grateful as fuck.

'Fine, and we don't care,' he snaps back, regretting his words instantly. Wasn't he supposed to be the patient and comforting one?

Surprisingly, the following silence isn't angry; Dean even gets goosebumps when he feels the sudden change in the atmosphere. Seth isn't pissed anymore, what he's emanating now is fear. It's a mystery to him what he said that frightened Seth so much, but when his baby brother whispers timidly if Roman knows Dean can't help but bite on his lip, cursing himself inwardly.

A pang of guilt hits him somewhere deep in his chest, refusing to let go of him anytime soon. Seth didn't want Dean to get wind of his cancer, so the chances he was about to tell Ro were between slim and nonexistent. Dean took something very precious away from him and there's no apology that'd make this better. It wasn't his call, no matter how shocked and confused he was when he found out.

Since Dean too hates acknowledging that he was wrong about something, he acts as if he didn't just have an epiphany and changes the topic, 'Why do you think he didn't text yet, asking in which bar I've fallen asleep after a brawl?'

His pathetic joke doesn't work, Seth keeps on fighting against him. 'Can't you ever keep something to yourself? Always running to lover boy first as soon as you spot trouble. You will never change.' It sounds defeated, hopeless yet utterly miffed too. It's a hundred percent Seth Rollins. The one he rarely showed them during their stint as a brotherhood but when he did, it was always a sign of complete trust. Nowadays it's the new, arrogant and selfish asshole he doesn't recognize anymore.

Dean refuses to comment on the irrational jealousy, he never does cause it's ridiculous and he won't support the idea of him and Ro having a fling. He's clueless how Seth got to that assumption in the first place. Cause to him, it's pretty obvious that Ro's his best friend and not his occasional fuckbuddy. The only friend with benefits Dean would want and once had is Seth.

'He's family too.' It's a useless attempt to convince Seth – and to an extent even himself – that he acted right when he went to Roman earlier and immediately spilled the big secret.

Seth's wrath returns at full speed; so does his knowledge how to sucker-punch Dean with words alone. 'Not mine.'

It fucking hurts to hear that. It does every time and Dean can already tell that it'll never get better. Why is Seth so vehemently against them getting back together? He's not sure if he means them as a thing or The Shield but right now, it also doesn't matter. As long as Seth is here, by his side and where he belongs, everything's okay.

Doesn't mean though that Dean will allow anyone to talk to him like that. 'Don't fall off that high horse of yours, Seth. We're the only ones being there for you.'

He doesn't see anyone else trying to support Seth as good as they can. There's no cruiserweight Hobbit to nag, no mommy or daddy to banish the unwanted guest. No one's pampering the golden boy; all the Authority did was strip Seth off his titles and force him to stay at home to get better. That's not the help a so-called family should provide. Or maybe that's how rich people do it. How should Dean know?

'No, Hunter and Steph, they take care of me,' Seth blabbers, fully aware that he won't listen to a single word coming out of his mouth. The fact that nobody else but Dean is here speaks volumes. 'You're just doing a sit-down strike in my room because you are unable to let go of someone you have already lost.'

Ouch.

What's Seth's goddamn problem? What exactly has changed that he decided to not give them a second chance? Dean's fine doing it and he's the one who got left.

Dean rubs over his eyes, feeling a slight pain in his temples. He's so fucking tired of this discussion, so instead he decides to ask a question that's been burning on his tongue since he left the arena. 'What're your chances?'

'It's cancer, Dean.' First name basis, would ya look at that. Not exactly the moment he wanted to hear it but beggars can't be choosers. Nevertheless, there's no way he'll allow Seth to get away with that cunning strategy. He lets him pull that shit off in the ring cause Seth needs to feel superior, but this right now is serious. Dean's done pleasing his brother.

'What are your chances?' he repeats sternly, sitting up to get a better look at his friend. Seth still hasn't forgiven him for his intrusion, choosing not to face Dean head on. Though there's not really anything to see in the moonlight. Won't change Dean's wish to lose himself in those brown eyes for just a second to pretend the past year or so never happened.

Seth's silence still isn't furious; Dean can make out hesitance and annoyance, but none of it is directed at him. He clearly doesn't want to talk about that yet. Fine. It's not like Dean's an open book either.

'What type is it?'

This time, Seth decides to give him a coherent response, muttering through clenched teeth, 'Breast cancer.' That's– good? More or less. Right? It's not the most dangerous or aggressive cancer out there. Seth is going to be okay. He has to. Dean'll make sure of it. Somehow.

He is thankful for Seth's honesty, for once content with the way the conversation went but apparently his inability to give a snarky or sarcastic remark eggs Seth on to do it himself. Probably to stop the spinning thoughts in his head. 'I'm lucky it hasn't spread. Knock on wood for me, will you?'

'Stop actin' like you don't give a shit.' This is not the Seth he got to know and he doesn't want the last of his good memories of that guy to be taken from him too.

'Isn't that how you get through life?' Sure, but Seth isn't Dean. There's no need for two fucked up assholes in their split family. 'Ya ain't me.'

It takes Seth forever to answer and his voice is very low and drowsy, indicating he is once again about to fall asleep. 'No. You wouldn't leave your family. Even stayed with your mom. 'n you're here. With me.' Seth yawns heartily, snuggling deeper into the cushions and the covers – not picking up on Dean's surprise and mixed emotions – before whispering, 'Don't be when I wake up. Don't want you around. Stop caring jus' so you feel better. Or tell yourself you're a good person. Gonna beat this on my own.'

Dean never claimed to be a decent human being, hell, everyone keeps reminding him he's only a raging lunatic, a ne'er-do-well, waste of space. Even his own lil' brother. How many times does he need to swear that he's not here cause he suddenly turned into Mother Theresa. This is cause he's a hundred percent greedy and saw a convenient way to squeeze himself back into Seth's life.

He can't fight for his friend, can't heal him. But he can be there, listen to all the insults and ramblings, help his brother through the blinding hatred, the doubt and helplessness. He can be Seth's crutch and God help him, when this is over, Seth won't want him to leave again.

'Seth,' Dean tries to reason. His jerk friend will beat the cancer on his own but he shouldn't have to be alone in this.

But even an exhausted Seth is still awfully stubborn. 'It's over, Ambrose. We're through. Don't pretend otherwise. You only feel sorry for me 'n like I said, don't need that. Go or I'll get a restraining order. I mean it; don't wanna see your ugly face when the sun goes up. This has nothing to do with you; stop makin' it your business.'

Dean doesn't even pretend to not be taken aback by this statement, just puts his feet on the table and tucks himself up in the leather jacket, eyes falling shut once more. He'd love to beat some sense into this dolt, but it's late and Seth needs every bit of rest he can get.

And quite frankly, this is the total amount of assholery he can take on one day without snapping. 'Shuddup and sleep.' At least then Seth won't spit out so much hateful bullshit.

'I'm serious. You better not be in that chair when I get my wakeup call.' Yeah, yeah, Dean's not deaf. But this weak threat won't make him leave either. His mother threw a lot worse at him and Dean still stayed. Might've been dumb but he'd just been a boy and even though he sometimes hated his mentally ill parent, his mom was still God in his eyes. Knowing what he does now, he'd give up on her and leave her in professional care, but Seth– Seth has always been his soft spot. If he could go back, he'd do it all over again, just to be with him.

Besides, he's sure Seth doesn't really mean it like that. Something happened before he decided to turn on them and Dean will fix it. He couldn't save his mother but he will not stand for Seth leaving for good.

'Don't worry,' he promises, 'I won't.' Its true, he will not sit in this chair come morning; still, Seth should pay more attention to the loopholes he constantly gives Dean.


	4. Chapter 4

I... I am more than just sorry for not updating like I want to or like you guys deserve. You're all so loyal and understanding and I'm sitting here, feeling guilty as hell. I mean this chapter has been sitting on my harddrive - edited and just waiting to be published - for months and I couldn't bring myself to turn on my slowly dying laptop and just post it. I don't even have any excuses that don't sound like I'm a broken record. If you guys weren't so awesome, showering me with love even when I've disappeared off the face of earth, I'd have stopped writing a long time ago. So thank you. I can't thank you enough. You have no idea how much this all means to me.

This chapter is dedicated to C, cause she's a ray of sunshine and the Queen of Ambrollins, always ready to fight anyone who tries to shit on our boys. I love you.

* * *

The sun has barely appeared on the horizon when Seth stirs, blinking at the early light waking him up from a restless slumber, groaning when he realizes he could have slept for at least one more hour. With a lazy smile on his lips he stretches his arms and legs languidly, taking in a deep breath, thinking about just dozing until his alarm goes off.

The moment he smells the familiar fragrance, his eyes snap open and he turns his head around to look Dean in the face. It's almost hilarious how his whole mood changes from _at ease_ to _pissed off_ in a heartbeat. Almost.

'Seriously?'

Dean grins, deciding to ignore the death glare and waves his hand around. 'You said I had to leave the chair. So I moved to the bed.' Sounds logical to Dean but Seth keeps on being a little jerk and huffs annoyed while pushing the covers off his slim body, as if he honestly expected to wake up all alone after last night.

Instead of lecturing Dean though, he stays quiet for a while, gaze directed at the ceiling, the fight leaving him quicker than Dean is happy with. An angry Seth is easier to deal with than one who has kinda given up. 'You are lucky that it would simply be a waste of time and energy to kick you out of my room. Besides, I have to get ready.' And with that he gets up, a lot slower than Dean likes, all the while side-eyeing him like he is just waiting for Dean to make a rude or stupid joke about his condition.

When nothing of that sort slips outta his mouth, his baby brother is visibly confused, grabbing his toiletries bag to practically tiptoe into the bathroom, probably still waiting for Dean to say something – be it an explanation, an apology or some sort of undying love confession. He certainly doesn't need to justify himself, nor will he beg for forgiveness for taking care of his family, so Dean would rather bite his tongue off than utter a word now. And he sure as hell won't embarrass himself by admitting that he needs Seth way more than he needs him.

Dean listens to Seth brush his teeth and take a shower, doesn't miss the tiny pained hisses or the occasional _what the heck_ whispers that aren't meant for his ears but that entertain him a lot. He struck a vital chord and whatever happens from here on, Seth won't be able to get Dean out of his mind again, no matter how hard he'll try.

After thirty minutes of doing nothing but eavesdropping and recalling the good old times when they were still officially a team, Seth eventually steps out of the bathroom, water drops rolling down the darker skinned chest in a mesmerizing pattern. It's clear as day that Seth is afraid of drying his hair with the towel, scared to death Dean will witness him losing some more of his beloved but broken mane, so he decides to just put a beanie on his head, the wet hair loosely twisted into a bun, acting like it was an intentional choice.

Dean could be the party pooper now, could call him out on his bullshit but he remains silent. There's a time and place for everything, and this definitely ain't it. Besides, Roman would kill him if he'd push Seth into doing anything other than accept that he won't have to do this alone.

Seems like his unusual behavior upsets Seth more with each passing second. He's probably irked by him keeping his mouth shut since Dean loves to put in his two cents, especially whenever Seth's being ridiculous, paranoid or irritating. So to break the silence, his baby brother scoffs, 'You know where the door is. Let us pretend yesterday never happened and live our lives independently.'

Yeah, no fucking way. He's made it into Seth's bed and he still has all his limbs. No chance he's gonna stop now. 'Really?' he asks, resting his head on his crossed arms, looking like he has not a single worry in the world – when reality is that he's having so many doubts and conflicting thoughts that he wants to jump up and tell Seth every little thing bothering him, cause that's what he's still used to even if it hasn't happened for so long. Roman's his best friend and they talk about everything but he just isn't Seth.

'I offer you your family – no conditions, no catch – and you outright refuse? You _wanna_ be on your own in all of this?'

Seth puts on some clothes and moans but Dean can't say for sure if he's hurting or just now remembered how obstinate Dean is. Could be a bit of both. The oversized sweater and pants make Seth look even smaller than he is and as if he's hiding behind them in this rough time. His brother has found a makeshift shield for himself whenever his only companion is his shadow.

Come to think of it, the dark clothes look a lot like stuff Dean wears around his own house during colder seasons. But he's not gonna mention that either or Seth _will_ find the strength to throw him out for good.

His brother acts like he's wearing a crown again, his shitty, filled with horse crap side resurfacing when he drawls, 'Ah, just when I had lost all hope you would _ever_ use that raisin sized brain of yours. Glad to see you finally get it. I dumped you last June, I will not crawl back to you because I got diagnosed with cancer. The reason why I joined the Authority didn't change.'

Dean gets it; the call of money and fame was more tempting than the security of a family or this _thing_ they had. The Shield had been on its prime and the only way to achieve more was to break apart. He might look like a nutjob but he's not dumb.

Professionally, Dean might not agree with it but he understands the reasons for Seth selling out. He only has problems with all of it on the personal level. Why didn't Seth talk to them first? Why play with them like that? Why stay with them for so long when all he ever wanted was to fly solo? Why hurt Roman and especially Dean so profoundly? Why stab them in the back in front of the whole world instead of just leaving? And why the fuck did he force Dean to forgive him during The Summit just to drop him mere weeks after?

Dean has no satisfying answers to this and he most likely won't for a while but that's alright. Moronic scumbag or not, Seth is his baby brother and if he's learned one thing about family it's that forgiveness ain't easy but it always waits for you. Should you want it.

'Okay.'

What else could he say? It was never Dean's intention to hold Seth back – hell, it's no secret he's the best wrestler of them all, the titles just prove it – and he won't start with that now. If Seth wants to play happy family with Hunter and Steph, then Dean will let him. He's used to being the unwanted son and he's mastered the art of acting like he doesn't care.

Seth can have his delusions, his fits and bouts of thinking he is a better looking CM Punk ripoff. Dean won't take that away from him. He's not here to change his brother. That'll happen over time, just like magic. As soon as his brain kicks in again, Seth will see clearly once more and Dean will get his friend back. Until then, patience is the key. Not Dean's strong suit but he knows when to quietly endure and survive.

It's kinda comical how Seth stares at him with wide eyes, visibly taken aback by his apparently very convincing indifference. As if he really expected Dean would drop down on his knees, start crying and beg for Seth to shed light upon his thoughts. Yeah, Dean demands an explanation cause he wants to hear this jerk say it out loud, say the words _I left because I got tired of you, I never loved you anyway_ and see for himself that they're just a made up, bullshit excuse for why he really bolted on them.

Seth got scared, felt caged in by his own emotions and instead of turning to the one person who was just as equally frightened he fled and joined the enemy to convince himself he's better off alone.

Dean'll watch him live that lie for as long as Seth needs to cause some lessons you gotta learn the hard way but he'll be damned if that'd keep him from being a good big brother.

'Don't you want to know why I did it?' Sure, but what difference would it make? What's done is done. One day he deserves to hear the truth. One day he'll even be ready for it. Wouldn't change their current situation though. 'Nope.'

'Why?'

Now it's Dean's time to muster his friend, his heart beating a bit faster when the brother he lost over a year ago reappears for an instant. He has to fight the urge to smile and instead shrugs, muttering whatever Seth needs to hear. 'Cause I don't care. Doesn't matter what ya gotta say. You've blabbered enough about it already. 'm not here to be a buddy of the new Seth. Or the leftovers of the old one. Or whoever you are behind closed doors.'

Though he wishes to see for himself that his demeanor is just as fake as everything else concerning The Man, that he isn't imagining all these glimpses of _his_ Seth. 'I'm here to help my baby brother get through this. Afterwards we can go back to hating and ignoring each other; if that's what ya so desperately want.'

Forcing himself to not look at Seth, Dean gets up but he can practically feel the nostalgic glance Seth throws at him and his naked upper body. Ha, he knew it. A tiny part of that liar has never left The Shield and it's growing – definitely against Seth's will.

Which is probably why he snarls, 'I don't need you.'

Oh believe him, he knows. Seth has never been reliant on Ro or him. And that's one of the worst truths ever. Not being needed, even in times like these. But, as disgusting and weak as it may be, _Dean needs to be needed_. 'You will,' he grits out but he doesn't sound very persuasive.

Naturally, Seth can easily see right through him. 'Don't be so full of yourself.' Uh-huh. Look who's talking. And look who's trying to weasel his way outta this conversation.

'Stop fighting me, Seth,' he sighs, putting on his shirt and leather jacket before sitting down on the edge of the bed to stall for time. Should he slip into his boots, he'd be ready to head out and that's the last thing he intends to do. 'I'm not going anywhere. This ain't about The Shield or your new mommy and daddy. It's about you, me and Ro.'

The sole mention of his best friend makes Seth's tired expression turn sour. Jeez, someone needs to work on his skills to hide the raging jealousy that doesn't suit him at all. Especially if that certain someone claims he doesn't care.

'No,' Seth shakes his head, body moving automatically to the bed as if it wants to take a seat right next to him but Seth stops in his tracks at the very last moment and just towers over Dean, arms crossed to protect himself. 'It's about your guilty conscience.'

Maybe that's another reason he refuses to leave Seth alone. Perhaps he feels bad for not seeing through Seth's schemes sooner, for ever falling for such a dumbo, for letting him go, for beating him up whenever he could get his hands on him. But most importantly for not realizing sooner his brother was sick.

'Mine?' he bursts out louder than intended, yet he desists to back down. 'I'm sorry, but last time I checked, _you_ grabbed a chair and hit me a dozen times after striking down an already bruised Roman.'

A dreamy smile dances over Seth's lips and Dean is about to protest vehemently when he realizes he's seen this expression before. It's the same smile Seth wore after Payback, when Dean pushed him against a stone wall to kiss him to deal with his post-victory high. This ain't a grin he showcases when he's about to gloat. On the contrary. The sight's just too sweet to not drink all of it in for as long as it lasts.

Somehow Dean doesn't think his brother would like it if he'd point that slip up out, so he stays in character and grunts after a while, 'That's not funny.'

Seth's distant gaze turns towards him and he cocks his head, as if to get rid of the tender flashbacks that just undoubtedly steamrolled over him, murmuring gently, 'I am not laughing.'

'You're smirking.' Now it's up to Seth to either tell what's real or another lie no one in this room believes. Knowing this dork, Dean bets all his money on Seth saying the truth, only to pretend he made a joke. He's so predictable when he's not stabbing you in the back. 'Yeah, I just remembered the night before.'

Their victory over Evolution, Dean and Roman fooling themselves into believing their family – other than their bodies – could never be broken, the steak and beer they shared and Dean stupidly telling Seth that he might have some deeper feelings for him, Seth entwining their hands to sigh happily and sit back to back on the hood with him, watching the stars above until he fell asleep under the sky. Now Dean understands that he never answered or dared to look him in the eyes because he had already planned on abandoning him the next night.

He doesn't reply, just glares at Seth to hide the relief spreading through his body. He knew Seth would prattle away. Now he'll deny it again. Three. Two.

'Just kidding, Ambrose. Of course I enjoyed hitting you. One of the many perks of buying in.' Seth is so full of bullshit. Makes two of them though. But fine, have it his way. For now.

'Whatever,' he waves the painful memories off while watching Seth put on his shoes. His time is running out. Dean can stay here for as long as he deems fit, trying to convince Seth to accept his help; his brother on the other hand can take off any time to check out and move on without him once more.

'Like I said, I'm not here to rekindle with you. Or fix what you broke.' Except that he totally is hoping for that outcome.

He always prided himself on being an exceptionally good liar but Seth can still read him like there aren't at least ten locks securing his heart. There's a reason he chose Seth and no one else. 'Seems as if we both deceive ourselves.'

Apparently. But it's nice to hear that neither of them is really upset about it. Despite their petty argument Seth is unusually mellow and forthcoming today and Dean will use that to his advantage to get what he wants. It might be a bit manipulative but hey, he isn't the first Shield brother to do that and he thinks he does it for a good cause and not just for his own benefit. Well, not entirely.

'Listen, Dean,' Seth exhales enervated, not even trying to cover up the fact that he just called Dean by his name and thus has already lost this little tug o' war. 'I have to fly home, get my shot and somehow force myself to stand on two legs for RAW next week. Make at least a tiny promo because I am pretty sure you will get me arrested if I try to have a match.'

Damn right he will. Whatever is necessary to make Seth take it easy for a while. It's really weird that anyone has to tell the Smart One to slow down a bit. Once he has beaten this disease, he can go out there and defeat everyone to take their titles, but for now the plan's bedrest and recovering. Dean doesn't care if he has to tie Seth to his bed to make him see reason.

'You should go.' Yeah, right. Dean is so close, he can almost smell his victory and his friend's tentative but complete surrender. Giving up on Seth has never been an option.

'Nope.'

His baby brother heaves a long suffering sigh and forgets his reluctance to share any personal space with Dean as he flops down next to him – only a couple of millimeter separating them. He can even feel Seth's body heat, something he's direly missed for so long.

'Okay, what exactly is your problem?' Seth doesn't look at him and instead focuses on the trembling fingers in his lap but his voice is as sharp as always these days. 'Honestly, why are you here?'

So real talk it's gonna be, huh? Alright, no way he's gonna say _it_ out loud in a moment like this. Seth wouldn't just throw him out of this room but also outta his life. And Dean's so done with that. Instead of muttering _ain't it obvious_ or something similar doltish he simply hums and boldly takes one of Seth's hands into his own. 'Not gonna leave you alone.' Cancer or not. Never again.

To his surprise, Seth doesn't withdraw his fingers grumpily – or grossed out – and just keeps on gazing at their entwined hands as if the sight reminds him of simpler, better times; like a part of him frantically memorizes the feeling of Dean's skin on his own.

It takes Seth a lot of strength to finally let go – Dean can see it in the sluggish movements of his body and the sadness that creeps into the brown eyes unbidden –, so he can announce, 'It won't change a thing and I won't ever stop pushing you away.' Fine, Dean can live with that compromise if he has to. Hopefully. It's _something_ and therefor better than ending up empty-handed.

His skin still prickles pleasantly where it touched Seth and he smiles down at his socks, claiming, 'I'm perfectly aware, dumbo. Kinda counting on it since it's you we're talkin' about. As soon as you're fine again, Imma beat your skinny ass myself. Grab my baby before you lose it to some nobody.'

Luckily, Seth doesn't mention that at least Cena was able to bring prestige back to the US Title. Something Dean – as longest reigning champion – couldn't do. Or that it's not even set in stone that he'll instantly get his titles back upon his return to the ring. His brother simply shakes his head, mumbling, 'I don't understand you. How can you stay when I made it perfectly clear that I do not want you?' It's not meant as an insult, Seth sounds genuinely interested in his motive. Which means he doesn't believe the whole subterfuge about siblings, bonded by blood or not, sticking together through thick and thin.

Nonetheless, it's all Dean's got to offer at the moment. Seth's not prepared for the whole truth yet. 'Cause I care.'

Seth lets out a dissatisfied sound and stands up slowly, looking back down at him as if he's judging Dean for keeping things from him. Ugh, what's with the double standards? 'You are constantly repeating that o convince yourself you are doing the right thing here but I know you. You are hiding something from me. Leave the lies to the liars. What is the real reason?'

Love. It's as simple as that. The words are on the tip of his tongue, begging to finally be free and accompanied by sappy things like _Don't leave me all alone, you're all I know, I can't breathe when you're not with me_ but Dean just swallows them down again. Maybe it's wrong, maybe it's appropriate to leave Seth in the dark a little while longer. Dean regrets most of his life anyway, so this is just another potential fuck up he can add to the gigantic pile of donkey crap he's done in the past.

To appear busy and confident, Dean jumps up, slips into his boots and claps Seth on the shoulder, trademark jovial smirk firmly in place. 'Shuddup and get dressed. I'll meet you in Davenport.'

His hesitant friend stops moving, seizing him up for a while, trying to find the deceit. When he can't, he sags his shoulders and fidgets around with the thumbholes of his dark sweater. 'God, you really mean it.'

He doesn't sound pissed by Dean's tenacity anymore, just perplexed. Maybe he assumed Dean was trying to play him to get some petty revenge but he's gladly come to the conclusion that not even Dean can sink so low. He's a son of bitch but not heartless. He'd never use Seth's cancer for his own profit. Not in the way Seth believes.

'Yeah, of course. Been tryin' to tell ya the whole time that I just wanna help. I'm here for you.'

It's the first time Seth believes what he says and isn't immediately repulsed by it. At long last, Dean got through to him. His baby brother is giving up but naturally it's only on his own terms. 'You know what? Fine. You can look after Kevin – and only my dog –, if you so pathetically want to be of use. Due to the cancer there are a lot of new rules you have to heed though, so be prepared to listen _and_ obey for once.'

Contrary to popular belief he _can_ do all that. But as long as Seth doesn't have to go through this without support, he won't complain about being reduced to dog sit the livelong day. He wormed his way into Seth's house, so the first step is done. Now he only needs to make it back into that dickhead's tightly locked away heart.


End file.
